The Doctor, the Detective and the Asgardian Mischief Maker
by elbafo
Summary: Challenge issued by non other than Mr Cumberbatch himself, and embraced wholeheartedly by the ladies in the Mrs Hudson's Kitchen forum. Ben's words, referring to Tom Hiddleston & Matt Smith: "We like nothing better than buffing our Zygoma. And imagining a horny time traveling long overcoat purple scarf wearing super sleuth nordic legend f*** fantasy. Get to work on that, internet!"


**A/N:** Challenge issued by non other than Mr Cumberbatch himself, and embraced wholeheartedly by the ladies in the Mrs Hudson's Kitchen forum. Ben's words, referring to Tom Hiddleston and Matt Smith: "We like nothing better than buffing our Zygoma. And imagining a horny time traveling long overcoat purple scarf wearing super sleuth nordic legend f*** fantasy. Get to work on that, internet."

The challenge:

Write a story including: Sherlock, Doctor 11, and Loki that includes a purple scarf and contains sexual innuendo.

Here's mine:

**The Doctor, the Detective and the Asgardian Mischief Maker**

"And if you had looked carefully, John, you would've seen her stripey black and white stockings and glittering red shoes poking out from underneath the house," Sherlock said condescendingly before biting into the cream puff he had stolen from Mrs Hudson's kitchen.

"So Dorothy just..." John frowned, not finishing his sentence as Sherlock tilted his head to one side, his attention captured elsewhere.

A groan of steam and wrenching, heaving metal could be heard, faintly at first, gradually growing louder in the vicinity of the living room. John turned around to stare in the direction of Sherlock's unimpressed gaze.

A blue police box was materialising before their very eyes on the rug beside their armchairs.

Sherlock tutted as the door swung open with a tiny creak. A man in a red bow tie stuck his head out of the door.

"Hello!"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "Doctor."

"Sherlock Holmes," the Doctor said affectionately.

"You can close your mouth now, John," Sherlock remarked, putting the cream puff down onto the table. He'd lost his appetite.

"Er," stammered John.

"And you must be Doctor John Watson? We didn't have the pleasure of meeting the other day." The Doctor took a tiny leap from the threshold of the police box and stepped over to John.

"Um.."

"This is _The_ Doctor, John. Timelord, Spaceman, Gallifreyan, Alien Lifeform, Universal crime fighter and all round busy-body."

"Pleasure," said the Doctor, grasping John's hand in both his and shaking it.

"I've missed something, haven't I?" John asked, feeling a tad dizzy.

"Oh, I visited the other day, when you were at the shops. Sherlock here helped me solve the case of a Cyberman's missing left thumb."

"Transparent, really," Sherlock said with a hint of smugness.

"It really was transparent," the Doctor added conspiratorially.

"We wouldn't have found it if you didn't wave your little zappy thing in the right direction."

"Sonic screwdriver, old boy."

"Um," said John again.

"So, I really need your services again, Sherlock. And make sure you bring your scarf this time."

"My scarf?"

"Sorry, what? What's going on?" asked John, finally snapping out of his daze. "Timelord? Cyber what?"

"Men, John. Cyborgs," Sherlock explained. "Originally human until they started replacing parts of their anatomy with artificial bits. And as a way of self-preservation they turned off their human emotions, allowing them to live purely by cold, calculating logic."

"That sounds strangely familiar," muttered John.

Sherlock ignored him and continued, "My scarf? Why, Doctor? A bit cold on Gallifrey this time of year?"

The Doctor grinned stupidly. "We're off to Asgard, Sherlock."

"Asgard?" queried John, struggling to keep up. "Is that accessible via the Jubilee line?"

"One of the nine realms of the Asgardians, Doctor Watson, and no, we won't be using the Jubilee line. The Asgardians use a technology called the Tesseract to reach Earth. It sort of opens a rift in time and space. A bit like the old girl here," he said, affectionately patting the side of the TARDIS.

"Realm?" asked John.

"Planetoid," qualified Sherlock.

"Planetoid? Sherlock you didn't even know that the Earth goes around the sun, and now you're travelling in space?"

"The TARDIS, John. And I don't have to navigate. So, Doctor, what's the case this time?" Sherlock asked, pulling on his coat. He retrieved his scarf from the coat pocket.

"Oh, not your blue scarf this time. Your purple one."

"I don't own a purple one."

"Oh," the Doctor declared, slapping himself on the forehead. "I should've been here two minutes later. Never mind."

Just then they heard the sound of Mrs Hudson's footsteps on the stairwell.

"Ah!" said the Doctor. "Good timing Mrs Hudson!"

He strolled over to the living room door just as the landlady appeared at the top of the stairs. "Here's your parcel, Doctor," she whispered.

"Ah, wonderful. Here's your new scarf, Sherlock!"

Mrs Hudson winked at the Doctor before descending the stairs again.

"Why didn't you just purchase it for yourself?"

"No, no. You have to wear it. It's a part of the whole package. Like me and my bow tie," he said, proudly adjusting the accessory around his neck. "It just has to be purple this time."

John gave the Doctor a discerning look.

"Right then," Sherlock said, wrapping his new scarf around his neck. "Goodbye John. See you in...when?" He looked quizzically at the Doctor.

"Oh, five, ten, minutes, years or something," the Doctor replied casually.

"Don't wait up, John!" Sherlock called out, disappearing inside the TARDIS.

With a heave and a groan and an echo from a bad 1980's TV theme, the TARDIS gradually lost its opacity, leaving John standing awkwardly between the kitchen and the living room all alone.

"Bloody hell," he murmured.

Meanwhile, inside the TARDIS' control room, the Doctor was striding around the centre console, pulling on levers, pumping pistons while turning a rubik's cube between his hands. Sherlock was staring into a mirror, pulling at his scarf and grimacing.

"A bit scratchy," he said irritably.

"Not to worry. You won't be wearing it for long. You won't be wearing anything for very long. Not where we're going."

"I thought we were going to Asgard?"

"We are. Just to pick up Loki's helmet."

"Loki?"

"Asgardian Prince. Extremely fun guy. Unfortunately he's been kidnapped by a race of Zygomotes."

"Zygomotes?"

"Cheekbone-obsessed race living on the outskirts of Raxicoricofallapatorios. You'd never recognise them. They look like everyday, ordinary humans. The female kind, but with exceptionally long fingernails. A throw-back from their close proximity to Raxicorico and its twin planet Clom."

"Females," huffed Sherlock in disgust.

The TARDIS groaned to a halt.

"Won't be a minute!" the Doctor called, racing out of the TARDIS and leaving Sherlock to brush fluff from his new scarf.

"Okay, and off we go!" called the Doctor not a moment later, striding in carrying a gold headpiece sporting two rather large curved horns.

"And what exactly is the case, Doctor?" Sherlock asked.

"To rescue Loki of course. And give the Zygomotes want they want."

"Which is what, precisely?"

"Just to indulge them in a little fantasy they have. Won't take too long. We should be back in time for tea."

The TARDIS groaned and shifted slightly. With a sigh, the Doctor opened the doors.

"Ready, Sherlock?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Sounds like a planet full of idiots."

"Shh!"

The Doctor began whispering and gesturing along a corridor, the end of which he'd parked the TARDIS. "They're holding Loki in a cell around the corner. If he's alone, we can probably set him free and make a run for it. But if the ceremony has begun, we'll just have to join in I'm afraid."

"Doesn't sound like much of a plan," scoffed Sherlock.

They rounded the corner and were confronted by an enormous curved room, with glass walls, in the centre of which stood Loki with his back to them.

Without turning around, the Asgardian said, "There's not many people who can sneak up on me."

Slowly turning around, a broad grin spreading across his face, he took in the image of the Doctor and his new companion.

"Loki! It's been... what?" The Doctor glanced at his watch. "Five minutes? How's the new home?"

"It's an impressive cage, but not built, I think, for me."

"Well don't worry. We're working on an escape plan."

"Why don't you just use you zapper thing," Sherlock suggests.

"And who is your friend?" Loki asked.

"Oh! This is Sherlock Holmes, from Earth."

"Yes, of course. The man who is trying to save a man no more virtuous than himself," Loki drawled. "Your world is in the balance and you bargain for one man?"

"Wrong time, wrong human," the Doctor interjected.

"Oh, I don't think so," Loki said slowly and menacingly, eyeing Sherlock up and down.

"Gentlemen. How lovely!" a female voice cut in from the other side of Loki's cage. A babble of female voices rose excitedly from around them.

"Uh oh. I think the party is just about to start," whispered the Doctor.

The Doctor and Sherlock were surrounded by a congregation of scantily clad, human-looking females, staring lasciviously at the pair.

"I think you will be joining me after all, Doctor," Loki said, holding out his arms wide.

"The Zygomotes. Just go with it," the Doctor whispered.

"Why did I need a purple scarf?" Sherlock whispered back.

"Oh," said the Doctor, waving his hand dismissively, "Because they got it wrong. Don't worry about it."

"Please?" said a blonde female, gesturing toward the door of Loki's cage. "Would you be so kind?"

The Doctor approached the door of the cage as Sherlock reluctantly followed along behind him. The door slid open, and the two men stepped inside. With a hiss, the door locked behind them.

"Now you know the rules of the game, Doctor and Loki," the blonde spoke again. "Please tell Mr Holmes what we want to hear as we watch you undress."

"Words," said the Doctor as Loki grinned mischievously. "Bad words. Any words, the more evil the better."

Sherlock scoffed. "What? Is that all? Is that meant to impress me?"

"Yeah, something like that. You go first, Loki," said the Doctor. "Oh, here, they'll be wanting to see you in this, don't forget."

The Doctor handed Loki his helmet.

"Thank you."

Loki donned his helmet, but removed his cape as a small teeter went through the crowd of Zygomotes. He started pacing around the circular room as he said carefully, "I will kill you slowly."

The females gasped as he continued, "Intimately, in every way you fear."

"Oh, yes!" the Doctor applauded slowly.

Loki removed his armored vest next. "And when you scream, I'll split your skull!"

A huge cheer went up from the crowd as Loki removed his trousers in one swift movement. He raised his arms in triumph.

"I - am - Loki !" he yelled in a commanding voice.

The crowd went wild as the Doctor clapped and said, "Good man!"

Sherlock stared at the pair in disbelief.

"What do you say about that, Sherlock?" Loki asked the detective, stalking around the circular room in his underwear.

"You're insane," Sherlock replied in a low whisper.

"Me next," the Doctor volunteered beaming.

He stood in the centre of the room and said, while shrugging of his jacket," I - am - the - Doctor. Look me up!"

The room went horribly silent, except for one, "Yeah!" from a redhead standing at the back.

"Oh, come on!" called the Doctor in exasperation. "Okay, how about this one."

The Doctor rips open his shirt and declares, "I only came for the dancing!"

The room groaned, while the Doctor hung his head. Loki walked over to him and whispered something in his ear.

"Ah!" He cleared his throat and began, while removing his shirt and pulling down his suspenders, "We will avenge the annihilation of our people with a retaliation so massive, so merciless, that it will live in history. Let the vengeance begin with the death of the arch-traitor!"

The room remained silent, until a lone voice, again from the back of the room called out, "That's Davros!"

"Dammit!" yelled the Doctor. "I've never said an evil word in my life!"

Loki chuckled. "Nice try, Doctor. It burns you to come so close, doesn't it? You need to be reminded what real power is."

Loki circled the room again, holding out his arms as the crowd cheered once more. He turned to Sherlock. "How about you, Mr Consulting Detective?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and said, "This is completely humiliating."

He removed his coat and received loud boos from the crowd for his effort.

"You have to say something first," Loki advised him.

"Oh."

Sherlock steepled his hands under his chin for a moment, thinking. He chuckled, then removed his hands and began pacing around the room. "Look at you all," he began, slowly scanning the crowd and removing his jacket. "You're all so vacant."

"Take it all off!" a voice shouted.

"Oh!" Sherlock exclaimed, and started unbuttoning his shirt. "What's it like inside your funny little brains?"

A murmur of condemnation went through the crowd.

"We're losing them!" the Doctor stated. "Do something! Loki, quick! Call them all mewling quims again, like you did yesterday!"

"They don't like repeats."

Sherlock's voice lowered an octave as he said, "Let me try something."

Sherlock loosened his scarf as all eyes turned to him.

"You think your world is safe?" he began, glaring into the eyes of each female as he walked along the perimeter of the glass cage. "It is an illusion. A comforting lie told to protect you." He dropped his scarf to the floor. "Enjoy your final moments of peace." He unbuckled his belt and held his hand suggestively over his fly. "For I have returned to have my vengeance." Sherlock unzipped his fly and his trousers dropped to his ankles. "Now, shall we begin?"

The entire room erupted once more into screams, applause and wolf whistles. The sound was deafening. The Doctor looked over at Sherlock in triumph.

"Where the hell did that come from?" Loki asked, a glint in his eye.

"Uh oh," the Doctor called as he eyed the crowd nervously. "They're coming in! Brace yourselves, fellas! The zygoma buffing is about to begin!"

* * *

Sherlock stumbled out of the doors of the TARDIS looking somewhat dishevelled. His scarf was askew and his hair artfully tousled.

"See you soon, old boy," The Doctor grinned, poking his head out of the doors once more. "Or yesterday, or whatever."

"That thing you did with your...um...thing," Sherlock said weakly, waving his hand toward the Doctor.

"Sonic screwdriver."

"That was...um...good."

The Doctor saluted Sherlock and returned to the TARDIS as the detective sank into his armchair. The TARDIS was a faded memory by the time John appeared from the passageway beyond the kitchen.

"Sherlock?" he called faintly.

When he saw his flatmate slumped in his armchair he rushed over to him. "Jesus Christ, what have they done to you?" he murmured.

"I'm fine, John. I'm absolutely fine."

"I'm getting you a water," John insisted, hurrying over to the kitchen. "And an aspirin."

John delivered the tablet and tumbler to Sherlock who took both weakly.

"I'll just get you a blanket. Let me know if you need anything else."

"Why would I need you?" Sherlock rested his head onto the back of his chair, a strange smile on his lips.

John regarded him for a moment. "No reason at all."


End file.
